


Time Has Brought Your Heart To Me

by LLReid



Category: Sin With Me (Visual Novel)
Genre: Angst, F/F, Fluff, dyslexic writer
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-10
Updated: 2019-11-10
Packaged: 2021-01-26 15:50:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,426
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21376633
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LLReid/pseuds/LLReid
Summary: “Dance with me.”A short Yvette fic inspired by the song ‘A Thousand Years‘ by Christina Perri and Steve Kazee.
Relationships: Yvette Holte/Cleo Yang, Yvette Holte/MC, Yvette Holte/Main Character
Comments: 10
Kudos: 44





	Time Has Brought Your Heart To Me

“Yvette, you kinda ran off back there. Is everything alright—“

Cleo’s voice cut off as Yvette turned around, red hot tears openly spilling down her porcelain cheeks. The mere fact that her girlfriend had followed her from the crowded casino downstairs to her private balcony touched the assassin, and filled her with a sudden and utterly suffocating melancholy. Love was a luxury she had never allowed herself to openly hope for — a distinctly superfluous issue when her very survival was so much in question. Secretly though, she had been a young woman who yearned for something as extraordinary, and yet entirely normal, as love.

“Yvette,” Cleo said, softly, whilst slowly moving to her side at the ornate iron guard rail. Once upon a time Yvette had spent most of her time on her private rooftop balcony, and she had never invited anyone else into her sanctuary until meeting Cleo. It was an uncharacteristically cool, humid evening in mid-November, the sky liberally laced with stormy grey clouds that concealed most of the setting sun, the air stirring with delightful breezes. Her perfectly tended pots of lilac, yellow jessamine, and Russian honeysuckle filled the air with perfume. In this small, secluded world, it seemed as if the tourist filled city and neon lights that littered the horizon below were a hundred miles away.

Yet the sight of her girlfriend amongst her prized flower garden only made her cry harder. Dressed up in the most stunning red cocktail dress she had ever seen, her hair and her makeup perfect, all Yvette wanted was to be able to touch her. 

Despite Yvette’s limitations, Cleo had never made her feel broken or strange. Her ailment was just something that was a part of their relationship — much like the demons and the all of the magical stuff that always seemed to happen around them. They couldn’t touch each other’s skin...yet no one had ever made Yvette feel so desirable. It was about sex...sex with her mind, sex with her soul, sex with the color of her eyes, the smell of her skin. Yvette wanted Cleo to sleep in her bed every night. She wanted her to be the first thing she saw every morning and the last thing she saw at night. She loved her the way she never thought she could love anyone, and she knew that her feelings were returned with the same passion and intensity — even if she could not even begin to understand how anyone could love her.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered.

Her dark brown eyes continued sparkle through the concern lining each one of her features as Cleo gently touched the edge of her jaw, the cool silky red fabric of the gloves she insisted that she wore a momentary relief to her burning skin. Yvette could only sniffle as she stared deeply into her eyes. They were so much darker than her own, with only the faintest glimmer of deepest amber that showed up under certain lightings to betray that they were not black but brown. Yvette’s own gloved fingers coaxed her face upward, the pad of her thumb brushing the tip of her chin. The unexpected intimacy sent a little shock through the assassin’s trembling body. Her own flame-bright gaze matching that of her lover.

“You don’t have to apologise for crying, sweetheart. Not to me. Not ever.”

Yvette nodded and leaned into Cleo’s touch as she slowly wiped the tears away from her face. She took a deep breath to steady herself, to will herself to continue being brave, to continue allowing herself to be comforted instead of feeding into her gut instinct and attempting to push her away. She realised in wonder that somehow, in the past months, her entire heart had indeed been changed. She was becoming the woman fate might have intended for her to be…her true self…a woman who could make commitments and meet her responsibilities, and most of all, love without holding anything back.

“You don’t have to talk about whatever is upsetting you if you don’t want to,” Cleo continued, softly. “But, if you do...I’m here. I’ll listen. I’ll do whatever I can to help.”

“I saw couples dancing in the casino,” she whispered. More tears spilled down her face, soaking her already damp face and ruining the makeup she’d spent close to an hour applying. “Holding each other’s hands without gloves...sharing kisses...and it—“ A choked sob cut her off and made her heart ache. “It is destroying me that I cannot ask you to dance like that.”

“Dance with me.”

“What?”

Cleo gently guided both of Yvette’s hands to her slender waist and then wrapped both of her arms around her neck. With the fabric of their dresses and their gloves protecting them, they held each other as close as was physically possible as they started to sway. There was no music and no exclusive Las Vegas party happening around them, yet the simple gesture was more than anyone had ever given her.

She relaxed with Cleo fitting perfectly into her body, holding her closer than she had ever held anyone. In the temperate, November air, they swayed together, moving to their own personal beat as Cleo quietly sang one of her favourite songs in her ear. For one moment, Yvette escaped hell. No demons, no chronic pain, no well-meaning but misguided family, no nightmares — just the two of them, dancing. Dancing like they were normal.

“I know that you’re worried that you’re not enough...but you will always be more than enough for me. There is no one else I would rather be with.” The smaller woman slowly tucked a silky strand of blue hair that had stuck to Yvette’s damp face out of the way, her fingers caressing her skin. “You’re the love of my life.”

“Cleo, did you— do you mean that?”

“I meant every word. You’re the love of my life, Yvette Holte.”

“Meeting you was the best thing that ever happened to me.” She sniffled, again, as a small smiled twitched at the corners of her lips as her heart rate practically doubled in a mere matter of seconds. For most of her life she had had a secret world inside of her. Inside of her she’d had all of these unimaginable, magnificent, wonderful, stupid, amazing make believe worlds...not just one world. Hundreds of them. Thousands, maybe. But for the first time the real world was far better than her imaginary refuges. Reality was far more intoxicating than anything that she could ever hope to dream up. “You’re the love of this life and every life yet to come.”

For her entire life Yvette had believed that she could only wait for someone, something, to free her from the invisible chains that bound her. For her entire life she had been made to feel like a helpless invalid, a burden to all who knew her. She had been kept isolated and she existed within a bubble of fear until she had run away from home at the tender age of sixteen...despite the fact that she knew that her family had loved her in their own misguided way. But when someone is hurting you, they can call it whatever the hell they want. They can even call it love. But words lie, and actions never did.

Slow dancing with Cleo in her arms, Yvette felt as close to normal as she ever had. Despite everything; all of her emotional and social shortcomings leftover from her childhood in almost total isolation from society at large, the demons, her unusual job and the enemies it had made her, and the fact that any skin-to-skin contact with her would result in immediate third-degree-burns, she felt whole. When they held each other, in the darkness, it didn’t make the darkness automatically go away. The bad things would always still be out there, lurking in the fluorescent lit streets of the city of sin below. The nightmares would still be walking. When they held each other Yvette felt not only safe, but better.

In a perfect world, she would make love to the woman she loved every night and every glittering kiss and every touch of flesh against flesh would be another shard of heart she’d quite happily never see again. But with Cleo in her arms she realised that, in this case, she had the potential to get what anybody gets when they find the one special person who happens to feel like home — she got a lifetime.


End file.
